Short People
by Evangeline Henri
Summary: Sirius and Remus 'come out' to baby Harry. RSFQF first wave response. (SiriusRemus)


title: Short People  
  
rated: PG-13  
  
pairing: Remus/Sirius  
  
It was only after Remus had helped him settle into the rocking chair with Harry in his arms-- _make sure you're supporting his head with your arm, and keep him steady, and just shift him if he starts to get fussy, and don't you dare try to sing "Anarchy in the U.K." to him, because I'll be back soon and I'll hex you in Lily's stead_-- that Sirius really began to appreciate having his godson in his arms. It was frightening as all hell, and he almost wished they'd never agreed to watch Harry (Lily definitely hadn't expected this), but it was sort of cool.

"Hey, Harry," he said softly. Harry squirmed a bit in his nervous arms, and Sirius took that as a positive sign. "In case you don't know who each of these giants that come around to gawk and gape at you are--which I'm sure that you don't--I figured I should introduce myself."

"I'm Sirius Black," he said, his mouth dry. "Your godfather." Absurdly, he found himself almost wanting to shake hands. But given that his hands were currently full of baby, and that said baby's typical response to foreign objects was to either suck or squeeze them, Sirius decided that bouncing Harry slightly would suffice.

"I know I'm not who usually stays with you alone-- not that I've not tried before, but you know how your mummy can be-- but it seems that you and I have been left to our own devices. Your mum and dad are out on business this weekend, and Remus is taking a 'constitutional'.

"Personally," he added, "I say we call a spade a spade, and an expedition out for a dirty mag an expedition out for a dirty mag, but we'll let him pretend. So it's just you and me." He smirked. "I don't know what sort of trouble we're supposed to get in, but let's try our best."

Harry blinked. Sirius had never realized how difficult it was to carry on a conversation with someone incapable of responding.

"Now, um, being your godfather, I've sort of accepted responsibilities towards you. And I know that you've only been world-side for what, like three months now, so you're probably not going to understand any of this, but I thought I should let you know as early as possible what I'm supposed to do."

Harry gurgled. Sirius wondered if this was the stupidest thing he'd done all week (well, discounting that whole kitchen-table-not-being-designed-to- support-the-weight-of-two-grown-men fiasco on Monday). He cleared his throat. "I intend to: get you drunk, get you laid--both, of course, when you're a sight older--, get you a state-of-the-art broom to terrorize the neighbourhood upon, and get you in so much trouble with your mother that she'll consider selling you to a travelling circus.

"But, don't worry. She won't. That is," amended Sirius, "I hope not." Really, who could tell with Lily's temper?

"Of course," he continued, "these things come in addition to spoiling you horribly, attempting to counter the influence of your woefully stable parents, and just being your friend."

Harry looked up at him with eyes that were all Lily-- impossibly green, and much older than this little ball of person in his arms. Sirius sighed. He'd never been able to bullshit those eyes for very long. "The truth is, Har'-- I hope you don't mind me calling you Har'-- the truth is that I'm not really sure what I'm doing when it comes to you. I've never been anyone's godfather before, and I'm honestly scared shitless--" Sirius gasped, "sorry, scared witless that I'm going to mess up in some way. Christ I've been messing up for as long as I can remember; who'm I to be a role model to anyone?"

Harry wriggled in his arms, kicking his tiny feet against Sirius' legs. Sirius started to rock the chair again. "I know, I know. All these doubts don't make sense to you. And you're right, then-- I should stop worrying so much and trust my instincts. You're a very wise fellow, for a cue ball- head, did you know that?

"So I'm going to try, Har'. I'm going to try." He bent his head down, gave the baby a little kiss at the crown of his bald head.

"Well, would you look at this?" Remus appeared in the doorway of the nursery, beaming. "It seems there's been a lot of bonding going on while I was out."

"'Lo, Moony," Sirius nodded. "How was the walk?"

To Harry, he said, "This big person is Remus, whom I was talking about before. Again, you've seen him before, but I'm just trying to refresh your memory."

"Padfoot, what are you talking about?" Remus walked over to stand above the rocking chair, and laid a warm hand on Sirius' shoulder.

"Just introducing Har' here to us," he said, the touch making him smile. "I think he likes knowing who we all are when he sees us. By the way, I thought we should probably also explain to him the G-A-Y factor."

"Sirius," Remus said with a patronising smile, "Harry's twelve weeks old. He's barely figured out that his hands and feet belong to him. Let's hold off the societal equality speech."

Harry yawned, his mouth stretched wide and his little nose wrinkling. How had James and Lily managed to create something so much more loveable than either of them? "Hush, I think he's miffed at you for insulting his intelligence. Don't worry," he crooned, "Moony doesn't really mean to be rude. He's just crass sometimes."

"Crass?"

"Now, I don't want to confuse you--trust me, it took your father a little while on this, too--but I'm going to let you in on a very important fact about me: I am in love with the man who's standing over you." He turned from Harry to Remus, whose eyes were shining with tears. "And I always have been."

"Sirius, I--"

"Ow!" Harry evidently thought there was more to it than that, for he chose that moment to grab a fistful of Sirius' long black hair, and pulled. Hard. "Alright, alright, you demanding little blighter!"

Remus leaned over, and gently extricated Sirius' hair from Harry's clenched fist, replacing it with his own finger. Harry seemed to accept the trade, immediately focusing upon Remus' finger.

"Thanks," Sirius said, shaking his head. "So Har, Remus and I, ah, well, we live together. Sort of in the way your mummy lived with your daddy before you were born. But not quite, because if Remus ever did to me the sort of things your mummy used to do to your daddy, I'd have to kill him, or myself. Also because we're a lot cooler than they ever were.

"Which isn't to say," Sirius continued (although he did wonder if perhaps he should just cut his losses and shut up), "that we never do any of the same things your mummy and daddy do. In fact, I'm sure we must have, because your mummy is still living with your daddy today. Though they don't do all the things that we do--" the kitchen incident came to mind, "I hope."

Harry kicked, and Sirius frowned. "Remus? Help me?"

"What your new friend was trying to allude to," he said, "is that he's gay."

"Right," Sirius said.

"In fact, you might say that he's as gay as the day is long."

"You could that."

"As gay as a cleric wearing garters."

"Or you could not."

"As gay as a shaved torso in a bathhouse."

"Moony--"

"As gay as David Bowie in makeup and those really, really, really tight pants that you know can't possibly provide enough--"

"Moony!" Harry gave a mewling squeal of displeasure at the tone of his voice. "Not the right audience for that."

Remus blushed. "Right then. Sorry."

"Honestly, I don't know why James and Lily ever thought you were the one better capable of handling Harry. Did you hear that, Har'? He's sorry."

Harry stared into space, nonplussed, and blew a stream of dribble bubbles. "I think that means he's forgiven you," Sirius said. This 'interpreting a baby's needs' stuff was a sight easier than any of Lily's parenting books made it sound. (None of which Sirius had ever leafed through as a preparation for Godfather-hood. Of course not.) Maybe he should go out and write his own guide to children. _Sirius Black and the Short People-- Parenting Made Cool_.

"Glad to hear it," Remus said with a smile.

"Oh and Remus is gay, too," he added. "One hundred percent." He paused. "At least, I think.

"Oi, Moony?" He cocked his head.

"Yes, Padfoot," Remus nodded. "One hundred percent."

"So that's all you need to know for now about Moony. I mean, there's this thing about him being a werewolf, but since you're new in town, we'll keep this simple." Harry continued to study Remus' finger by putting it in his mouth, which seemed to be his usual method of inspection. He was so small, Sirius realized. He'd never really thought about his size--that was just how babies were supposed to be--but he was such a little thing. Remus' finger was as big as his face. But he wasn't a doll, or a toy. He was Harry James Potter, a whole, real person that two of Sirius' best friends had actually brought life to, had actually made. A person who'd only been alive a short time, but who already was unique in the entire world. There would never be anyone like this baby, Sirius thought. Ever.

He looked up at Remus, and found an expression of awe that matched his own. "He's just... _special_." Remus nodded. "And not because he's gay, or a werewolf, or anything like that--just because he's here," he said, his voice husky with emotion.

"Yeah," Remus replied, bending over to kiss Harry and Sirius in turn. "He is."


End file.
